To the Son of a Bitch That Broke Into My Car

That sweater was a gift

It’s annoying but I know you need it more than I do

It’s winter and you sleep inside of a tent

I hope it serves you well through the dead of night

But my chargers? Fuck you for that

Fuck you for stealing our sense of security

I can’t help but hate you

See I understand your struggle

You gotta do what you gotta do to survive

But if I were there when it happened I would have beat your ass

Sent you on your way starving, without a crumb

I hate that I’ll be looking at ya’ll different

Feeling a little less generous

All because you fulfilled the stereotype

To me, the less fortunate will be a little less fortunate

Maybe that’s unfair, maybe you had an internal back and forth about right and wrong, living and dying

Maybe you couldn’t take another cold night shivering, wondering if you’d see the sun again

Or perhaps you’re just a no good son of a bitch you son of a bitch

I hope you’re okay

No really I do

Because if you’re still out there suffering then what was the point?

If you stole from me you should damn well be better off for it

You literal fucking dirtbag

I’m not angry I swear, things can be replaced

And I’ll probably laugh thinking of you next time I’m out spending money

So I hope you’re happy,

Because I am